


Don't Ever Look Back

by TheButterflySings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7803298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheButterflySings/pseuds/TheButterflySings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t his failure, no. It was the… loss. Not of his plans or his army, or even of his freedom, but of the man. Loki was finding increasing agitation by the loss of the man. The servant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Ever Look Back

It was infuriating, maddening, to come to such a realization. 

All the things he desired-- all the things he’d obtained, and this was his undoing. This was the cause of his restlessness, his increasing irritation and displeasure in all things. It wasn’t his failure, no. It was the… loss. Not of his plans or his army, or even of his freedom, but of the man. Loki was finding increasing agitation by the loss of the man. The servant. 

He’d chosen the archer purely on a whim. When the man moved, Loki saw a warrior, not the blundering and awkward nature of humanity. The archer had moved with precise determination and grace, unblinking in the face of battle, focused and battle-ready. He had the heart of a warrior, Agent Clint Barton, a man of fierce strength and fiercer loyalties. He had been exactly what Loki wanted of a slave-- power, matched with motive, paralleled by unwavering morals. Strong-willed and clever as they came.

And a warrior Barton had been. Stronger than even Loki had expected. A fighter through and through. Loki had analyzed every thought, every inch of the hawk’s mind and heart, discovered what made the man tick, what pushed him through. Loyalty, Loki had discovered, was the man’s greatest strength. A desire to serve and to please. Singular-minded in his obedience. That was why he served Nick Fury unblinkingly, decisively. Barton was a soldier, one built in the light of loss, made not harder by his trials, but kinder, better at heart.

He’d been the perfect servant. Loki had developed a level of fondness for his subordinate, seeing a place at his side for the slave archer in their coming future. Or perhaps, as it would better suit Agent Barton, a place kneeling at the king’s feet. And oh, how this future had tempted the would-be king.

And it was in this that Loki found his greatest irritations.

He had worked, diligently and unceasingly to turn the archer’s affections. To take it and turn it from the undeserving and miserable vermin he called friends. And how did, Loki could not fathom for the likes of him, Barton see the egocentric, charlatan supersoldier and the wanton and heartless harlot as worthy of affection? It was inscrutable. 

The archer, Loki had decided, deserved only the affections of a god, and so Clint Barton had gained the affections of the God of Mischief, even if only for reasons of Loki’s own pleasure.

And just as quickly, the cunning and mendacious little redhead had taken the good and faithful servant. Brought him back to her, as it were. Loki’s firm belief that Natasha Romanoff was far less than deserving of the good heart and eager devotion of Clinton Barton had not wavered even a fraction. He was appalled, and honestly offended, that his heart had turned back to her so quickly. It disgusted Loki. He was… not so petty as to stoop to the level of jealousy, but Loki had always been just this side of possessive, and the spider had taken his hawk, something he would not take lightly.

And so he would return to the hawk.

Of course, Loki’s entrance into the ‘Avengers Tower’, as it had been renamed, was not something taken lightly. He was unaware of what he’d interrupted-- though there seemed to be rapid consumption of alcohol, and very loud, very annoying music pulsing. The group had reached their feet before Loki had even located the archer in the tumult, but the demigod remained unconcerned.

“I come not as an adversary,” Loki announced evenly. “I wish no quarrel with you.”

“Yeah?” came the sarcastic response from the very man Loki had arrived to see. “Well, a lot of us aren’t over the last ‘quarrel’ you threw us into. So whether you wish it or not, you’re here as a pretty blatant adversary, douchebag.”

One of the god’s eyebrows raised, and he turned amused, glittering eyes on the archer. “Rest, brother,” he said offhandedly to the blonde-haired god that would have made to attack him. “I am here in peace. My motive lie not in you, or in any of you,” he added offhandedly to the metal man, the redhead, the soldier, and the monster who also would have made to attack. “My motive lie in him.”

All eyes turned then to Clint, who stared unblinkingly at Loki. “In me,” the archer stated blandly. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was your top priority, when everyone else in this room wants to kill you about as much as I do. But if you’re looking for a fight, I can’t wait to put an arrow in your eye.”

The threat was whole-hearted, Loki noted with some disappointment. Clint did not still remain even the slightest bit loyal, to Loki. But that was no matter. Loki was not so easily deterred from his desires. 

“You did not always look on me with such distaste, little hawk,” Loki replied easily, hands locked firmly behind his back as he turned away from Clint, hiding from the eyes of the onlookers the smirk that was crossing his lips.

“/I/ always hated you. I am not what you forced into my mind,” Clint stated fiercely, and turning on his heel, Loki watched the archer raise the bow that he hadn’t been holding only minutes before. He had an arrow knocked, and his face was determined and focused. He would shoot, if Loki gave him reason to. It would be in vain, Loki thought with the faintest amusement, but this bravery, bordering on recklessness, that his archer displayed, was a reason the god so desired the man. 

“Yes,” Loki agreed with the faintest smile. “And yet, I see the company that holds your affections. Your love.” His eyes, no longer amused, flicked to Natasha, and then back to Clint. “Tell me why I would be so undeserving of your thoughts and your tenderness, but those who would not return, or even stop to appreciate it, would be?”

Loki watched the hesitation as it crossed the warrior’s face. The confusion touched in his emerald eyes, and the arm that was pulling the bowstring taut slipped the barest centimeter. Loki followed all this keenly, satisfaction welling up in the pit of his chest. He couldn’t help the smile as it played on his lips, unmoving.

“Are you telling me you want my attention, deer-head?” Clint scoffed finally, rolling his neck. The man of iron whispered something that Loki paid little attention to into the ear of the noble captain-- but Tony Stark was not his intention now, and Steve Rogers was far beneath anything of Loki’s concern.

“I am saying that only a god would be worthy of such attention, archer,” Loki answered with a decided finality.

“You are not a god,” Thor interrupted, voice harsh and slow, thick with power. Loki’s eyebrow flicked up with a practiced disinterest. “And have you come only to manipulate and use our archer as your pet, you will find your purposes here shall not come to be. Leave here, brother, before you are forced away. I do not wish a fight with you.”

Loki gazed upon Thor with a calculated expression. He was silent-- so was Clint. Tony made to say something, but Loki spoke faster. “Manipulate? No, I come offering a choice. Agent Barton’s choice, naturally. Because of all of you, none of you seem to see the worth of this little gem you all treat so callously.”

“I know what I’m worth,” Clint said clearly. “I don’t need validation from you. Not if that means betraying my friends.”

“Friends!” Loki repeated with a dark, humorless laugh. “And of all your friends, only two look upon you with love in their eyes, and neither is the one you wish it to be. My dear brother and the man of iron, they would stand for you. The rest? You are worth naught to them. You deserve the affections of someone worthy of you, the fondness of a god.”

He could see Clint struggling with it, as much as he knew Clint didn’t want to be struggling with it. Because Clint wasn’t honest, he did need validation. He needed someone to think he was worth something. And he was being offered that, even if it meant kneeling again at the feet of a man he’d loathed-- but Clint would accept the role of the obedient without a thought. So part of Clint did so want to take what Loki was offering.

But Clint was nothing if not loyal. “I won’t betray my friends.”

“If you think on it, I have not asked you to,” Loki replied in a lilting voice, and he was gone as quickly as he’d come.


End file.
